


SHERLOCKED

by seathought



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock's Violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 15:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20360767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seathought/pseuds/seathought
Summary: This is a story about Sherlock Holmes, world's only consulting executive and John Watson, a thirty two year old retired soldier and army doctor who's just got back from Afghanistan; and how they both, slowly, start falling for each other.BASED ON THE BBC SHERLOCK SERIE





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTEER 1

A/N: IN CASE YOU WANT TO BE UPDATED ABOUT THE FIC, FOLLOW MY ACC @uglyav0cado ON INSTAGRAM 

Hey! I really hope you guys enjoy his fanfic as much as I am enjoying writing it! This is the first fanfic or story that I have ever written, so excuse me if there's any mistakes or it's not good enough! 

THIS CHAPTER IS VERY VERY VERY SIMILAR TO THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE BBC SERIES "SHERLOCK" BECAUSE I WANTED THEM TO MEET EXACTLY AS THEY DO IN THE SERIES.

Feel free to give me feedback and comment your opinion!

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Shooting. Explosions. Screams. Lots of buddies and colleagues on the floor, either bleeding or dead; and then, extreme pain on his shoulder. He had been shoot and he was bleeding quite a lot. He was screaming, begging for someone to help him and his friends, who were now laying on the floor.

John suddenly woke up all covered in cold sweat and his heart beating faster than usual. Another nightmare from Afghanistan. It had been months since he was shoot and he came back to London, where he was currently seeing a therapist in order to get rid of the nightmares but he still hadn't got over them. 

John looked at the time, it was 5.10 a.m, and he was getting trouble to sleep, he decided to get up and watch some crap telly. He then started thinking that he needed to find a job as soon as possible if he wanted to be able to pay rent... Since he was a doctor in the army, he may work as a doctor as well in London. 

Hours later, John decided to get dressed and go out for a walk so that he could give away a few curriculums. The army doctor struggled a little while walking since he suffered from a limp and it was necessary for him to use a cane. Once he'd submitted his curriculum to some hospitals, he felt really tired and thirsty so he went to a little stand where, while he was ordering his coffee, he bumped into an old friend of his: Mike Stamford. "John Watson!" Mike said with a huge smile on his face, "It's me, Mike, from University, remember?" Mike said, seeing how confused John looked; "Mike? Mike Stamford? Oh my god, mate! It's been almost what? 6 years? " said the army doctor while hugging his dear friend Mike.

Both men sat down on a bench at a park and started catching up. "So John, tell me, what have you been up to these last years?" John's face saddened a little when he heard that question: all the memories were coming back to him now. "I have been in Afghanistan, in war" Mike looked at him without knowing what to say, but John kept on talking "I decided it was time for me to go back home when I got shot" said. "oh wow, I had no idea, I'm so sorry John..." Mike replied quietly. "Oh no, don't worry, besides the limp, I'm fine now!" said John, with a little smile on his face. Then, after both men had talked about what they had been doing, Mike asked "Hey, do you wanna visit the University? I work there so it wouldn't be a problem to let you in if you want to see it." "Yes! that sound great mate!" answered John excited to see the place where he used to study years ago. 'Will it have changed a lot since I was there?' thought Watson to himself. 

They were taking a walk through the University when Mike asked John where he was living to which John replied "I am in a small apartment but since I have no job at the moment, I don't think I can live there for a very long time". Mike then told John that he maybe could find a flatmate but John frowned and laughed sadly "yeah, maybe, but who'd want me for a flatmate?". Mike didn't say anything, he just smiled. 

Both men kept on walking until they arrived to the University's laboratory, they entered in and John looked at his surroundings "Wow. Not very different from my day!". Looking around him, he saw a man sitting in front of a microscope, examining something. The man asked Mike for his phone but John's friend claimed that it didn't have battery so John offered the still unknown to him man his phone, "Thank you" said the man. Mike then intervened introducing John "This is an old friend of mine: John Watson" and out of the blue, without looking up from the borrowed phone he was using, the man said "Afghanistan or Iraq?" shocked and confused Watson asked "I'm sorry, what?" The man sighed and told him "You heard me well: which one was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" . The man had now stood up and was looking straight into John's eyes, waiting for an answer. John looked at him, he had dark curly hair, very prominent cheekbones and the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen: they were a mix of green, blue and grey. "Afghanistan" replied John nervously. 'How could he possibly know about that?' thought John, when again, all of the sudden the man asked "How do you feel about violin?" John, frowned, and confused asked "sorry, what?" "The violin, I play it sometimes, it helps me to think and also, I can spend several days without talking. Would that bother you? I just thought that flatmates should know eachother's flaws" the man answered.

John clearly VERY confused asked "wait, who said anything about flatmates?" "Well" began explaining the man while putting his coat and scarf on "I told Mike this morning I needed a flatmate and now he comes here with you, a retired military who was in the army in Afghanistan not so long ago. Pretty obvious, tight? Well I must dash now. I have to go and see some bodies at the mortuary. I found a very nice flat in centre London, so I'll meet you at 7.00 p.m tomorrow".

John, who was beginning to get a little angry and tense, asked "So, is that it?" The man simply replied "Is that what?" "Well, we don't know anything about each other, I don't even know the place we are going to be meeting nor your bloody name!" said John, a little bit louder than he intended to. The man stopped in front of the door and deduced almost everything about John's life, leaving him speechless. Once he was done, he opened the door but before he left he turned around and said "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the adress is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon!" shutting the door behind him.

Mike laughing said to John "Yep. He's always like that."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Next morning John woke up still confused about the events from the previous day. How could Sherlock know all that stuff from him when it was the first time they meet? John thought that that man was quite strange, but he was intrigued and he really needed to find a place to live soon so he decided to go meet Sherlock to see the flat that same day.

After spending the morning watching, again, some crap telly, John started getting dressed, he decided to wear simple jeans and his favorite gray jumper; he finally grabbed his cane, hailed a cab to go to 221B Baker street. Once he arrived, he paid the taxi driver and saw that Sherlock had already arrived and was waiting for him in front of the door. "Oh, hey mr. Holmes" said the army doctor "Sherlock please" replied the detective. They reached the door when a woman opened it to greet them both with a huge smile on her face "Oh, hello Sherlock!" she said "Mrs. Hudson, this is John Watson" said the detective pointing at John "Nice to meet you dear!" Mrs. Hudson said hugging John who replied "Yeah, you too!". They went upstairs to see the flat, Sherlock was so excited that he went up the stairs two at a time, having to wait for John, who was having some difficulties because of the limp. Both men entered into the flat. John looked at his surroundings and noticed it already had furniture and lots of what seemed scientific materials (microscopes and such). "This coud be really nice. Very nice indeed" said John, still looking at his surroundings "Yes. These are my thoughts precisely". Sherlock, looked very happy with it. Both men spoke at the same time "I got my eye on this apartment a few weeks ago and since I liked it so much, I decided to move in." said Sherlock just when John inquired "Well, once we get rid of this rubbish, we could make out of this a nice place to live I guess." The army doctor's face turned all red of embarrassment and he just said chuckling "Oh, well, I'm sorry." The detective just smiled slightly and said "It's okay, I guess I could straighten things up a bit...".

"Okay, that... That is a skull" said John looking worried and confused "Yes. A friend of mine." replied the detective. Then a slightly uncomfortable silence dominated the room until Mrs. Hudson said "So, John, what do you think? There's another room upstairs, if you boys are going to need two bedrooms..." "Yes, of course we will be needing two" claimed John interrupting the woman, who just stood there looking at them with a huge smile as if she was insinuating something. Then, suddenly, a man in a suit entered the room looking for Sherlock. He had gray hair, brown eyes and he was not very tall. "Sherlock! What about the suicides case? I think that it could be right up your street." asked the man. Sherlock just rolled his eyes sighing. "There has been a forth one, Sherlock and there's something different this time." inquired the man, clearly getting the detective's attention, who instantly replied "Where?" "Brixton, Lauriston Gardens" replied the man, still unknown to John. "so, Sherlock" continued the man "are you coming?". "Yes, but not in a police car, I'll be right behind" replied the detective. "Thanks, and oh, sorry, we haven't been introduced yet" said the man directing at John "I'm Greg Lestrade" "John Watson" replied the army doctor while shaking hands with Greg, who left seconds later.

"Ah, good! Yes! Four serial suicides! Now it's Christmas!" said Sherlock enthusiastically while grabbing his scarf and his coat while yelling "I will be late tonight Mrs. Hudson. Get me some food ready!" "I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper!" she said.

Sherlock told John to wait for him there in the flat, since he struggled so much while moving, but all of the sudden he frowned and asked John "So army doctor, huh?" to what John replied "Yes..." "You must have seen a lot of injuries, and violent deaths" said the detective smirking "Yeah. For too much" replied John quite unsure of what was going on. "wanna see some more?" Sherlock asked. "Oh god yes" and both men left the flat, hailed a cab and headed to the crime scene.  
On their way to where the crime had been committed, John asked Sherlock what exactly did he do, to which Sherlock replied "I'm a consulting detective, only one in the world, I invented the job" John was surprised, he had never heard of such thing and asked "What does that exactly mean?". The consulting detective smiled and said " It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me." John chuckled and said "Yeah, but police don't consult amateurs." Sherlock simply said "Well, when I asked you yesterday if it was Afghanistan or Iraq, you seemed quite surprised" "I was, how could you possibly know?". Then Sherlock inhaled, looked at John and explained how he managed to deduce him. "That was amazing" genuinely said the army doctor, looking now at a very confused and unsure Sherlock "Do you really think so?" "Yes, that was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary" replied John with a warm smile directed to Sherlock who still couldn't believe what he was hearing "People don't usually say that..." "And what do they usually say?" inquired, curious, John "Piss off you freak!" said Sherlock smiling a bit sadly.

They arrived to the crime scene, where Sally Donvan greeted both the detective and the doctor with disgust, but neither of them gave it a lot of importance. They went upstairs to see the body of a woman. Sherlock started examining it, looking for evidence and after a while he asked for her suitcase and when Lestrade told him there was no suitcase when they found the woman and, out of the blue Sherlock screamed "Brilliant" Oh, clever!" and left the room, with a very confused John and Lestrade.

The army doctor hailed a cab and on his way to 221B he thought about what Donovan just told him: that Sherlock was a psychopath. Sure he's different, but a psychopath?' thought John to himself.

Quite a while after John had gotten back to his new flat, found Sherlock with the woman's suitcase that he had found in a rubbish container, both men met with the murderer (through the victim's phone found in the suitcase) and went to have dinner at a restaurant called "Angelo's", so that they could see the murderer when he arrived.

While having dinner, Angelo congratulated Sherlock for having found a partner finally but John, nervous and tense, claimed, for the second time today that they were not dating but the man ignored it and brought them some candles to make it more romantic. Then, John felt intrigued and asked Sherlock about his love life "So, erm, do you, eh, have a girlfriend?" he asked "Girlfriend?" replied Sherlock "No, not really my area" he said. John frowned, confused, and then he realized what he meant "Oh, so a boyfriend then? Which is fine, by the way" Sherlock then looked at John straight in the eye, making him feel shivers down his spine "I know it's fine." said the detective dryly. "Okay, okay... So, do you have a boyfriend then?" insisted the army doctor while licking his lips. Sherlock looked at him again and simply said "No." John then said "Okay. Unattached. Single. Like me..." and all of the sudden Sherlock seemed to realize something, looked John straight in they again and said "John... I think that you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I am flattered by your interest, I am not looking for any..." Sherlock's speech was interrupted by John almost choking on his drink and saying "No no I wasn't hitting on you, no." But then John thought to himself 'I wasn't hitting on him, right? I'm straight... I have no doubt of that... or do I?' but he left those thoughts aside and continued eating his dinner until Sherlock saw the supposed murderer and started running after him, causing John to follow him as well.

Once they had reached the murderer and arrested him, they went back to their flat, gasping from air from all the running they did. Both, consulting detective and army doctor headed to their rooms to get some rest and while getting changed John realized something: he had forgotten his cane at Angelo's restaurant. He got into the sheets and a huge smile covered his face. For the first time in years he felt... alive. And all of it thanks to the great world's only consultant detective Sherlock Holmes.

On their way to where the crime had been committed, John asked Sherlock what exactly did he do, to which Sherlock replied "I'm a consulting detective, only one in the world, I invented the job" John was surprised, he had never heard of such thing and asked "What does that exactly mean?". The consulting detective smiled and said " It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me." John chuckled and said "Yeah, but police don't consult amateurs." Sherlock simply said "Well, when I asked you yesterday if it was Afghanistan or Iraq, you seemed quite surprised" "I was, how could you possibly know?". Then Sherlock inhaled, looked at John and explained how he managed to deduce him. "That was amazing" genuinely said the army doctor, looking now at a very confused and unsure Sherlock "Do you really think so?" "Yes, that was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary" replied John with a warm smile directed to Sherlock who still couldn't believe what he was hearing "People don't usually say that..." "And what do they usually say?" inquired, curious, John "Piss off you freak!" said Sherlock smiling a bit sadly.

They arrived to the crime scene, where Sally Donvan greeted both the detective and the doctor with disgust, but neither of them gave it a lot of importance. They went upstairs to see the body of a woman. Sherlock started examining it, looking for evidence and after a while he asked for her suitcase and when Lestrade told him there was no suitcase when they found the woman and, out of the blue Sherlock screamed "Brilliant" Oh, clever!" and left the room, with a very confused John and Lestrade.

The army doctor hailed a cab and on his way to 221B he thought about what Donovan just told him: that Sherlock was a psychopath. Sure he's different, but a psychopath?' thought John to himself.

Quite a while after John had gotten back to his new flat, found Sherlock with the woman's suitcase that he had found in a rubbish container, both men met with the murderer (through the victim's phone found in the suitcase) and went to have dinner at a restaurant called "Angelo's", so that they could see the murderer when he arrived.

While having dinner, Angelo congratulated Sherlock for having found a partner finally but John, nervous and tense, claimed, for the second time today that they were not dating but the man ignored it and brought them some candles to make it more romantic. Then, John felt intrigued and asked Sherlock about his love life "So, erm, do you, eh, have a girlfriend?" he asked "Girlfriend?" replied Sherlock "No, not really my area" he said. John frowned, confused, and then he realized what he meant "Oh, so a boyfriend then? Which is fine, by the way" Sherlock then looked at John straight in the eye, making him feel shivers down his spine "I know it's fine." said the detective dryly. "Okay, okay... So, do you have a boyfriend then?" insisted the army doctor while licking his lips. Sherlock looked at him again and simply said "No." John then said "Okay. Unattached. Single. Like me..." and all of the sudden Sherlock seemed to realize something, looked John straight in they again and said "John... I think that you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I am flattered by your interest, I am not looking for any..." Sherlock's speech was interrupted by John almost choking on his drink and saying "No no I wasn't hitting on you, no." But then John thought to himself 'I wasn't hitting on him, right? I'm straight... I have no doubt of that... or do I?' but he left those thoughts aside and continued eating his dinner until Sherlock saw the supposed murderer and started running after him, causing John to follow him as well.

Once they had reached the murderer and arrested him, they went back to their flat, gasping from air from all the running they did. Both, consulting detective and army doctor headed to their rooms to get some rest and while getting changed John realized something: he had forgotten his cane at Angelo's restaurant. He got into the sheets and a huge smile covered his face. For the first time in years he felt... alive. And all of it thanks to the great world's only consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

John woke up the next morning and after preparing some tea, he decided to grab his laptop and started writing on the blog, just like his therapist had been telling him to do during the past months but he kept on refusing because what was he gonna write about? Well, now he had found something: he would write about the cases Sherlock solved!

A few months later...

John is sitting on his armchair reading the newspaper and having some tea when Sherlock interrupted him by asking "John, do you want to have dinner?" "Yes, I'm starving" John replied. They went to have dinner at "Angelo's", where, again, both men were mistaken for a couple "We are not dating" said John, sighing. He swore that he saw sadness crossing Sherlock's eyes when he denied to be dating the detective, though he wasn't really sure. Then he noticed that Sherlock never said anything when people thought they were a couple, he just stared at them, but never said anything which was quite odd on Sherlock, seeing that he ALWAYS corrected every single mistake, so why didn't he say anything when people thought they were a couple?

Sherlock, on the other hand, noticed that every time someone assumed that John and him were dating, the army doctor would deny that at the moment, as if he was embarrassed. 'Is John really embarrassed at the thought of being with me?' Sherlock asked to himself. Usually, he didn't really care about what people thought about him, however, he didn't know quite well why but Sherlock cared about what John thought.

He kept immerse in his thoughts until he heard John calling him "Sherlock?" "Sorry, what?" asked the detective "What are you going to order?" "Oh. Just some spaghetti and water for me, please" said Sherlock, a bit embarrassed for not noticing that the waiter and John were talking to him.

After a short while, the waiter came back with their orders and both men started eating and John asked Sherlock to deduce some of the customers from the restaurant, which the consulting detective did. "Brilliant!" said John smiling warmly at Sherlock, who just smiled back. He didn't know very well how to react to compliments, especially when someone complimented his deductions, since that didn't happen very often.

John and Sherlock kept on talking about various topics, when their conversation was interrupted by a woman who approached Sherlock and said "Sherlock Holmes! I'm Aaliyah, big fan of yours!" "Good to know," replied the consulting detective "did you want something or did you just come here to tell me how clever I am?" asked Sherlock, clearly unaware that he was being a little rude. "Yes, actually I wanted to give you this" said Aaliyah winking at the consulting detective while handing him a piece of paper with her phone number. John, without knowing quite well why, was a bit bothered to see that Aaliyah was hitting on Sherlock but at the same time, he was kind of relieved to know that women weren't exactly Sherock's "area". 'Am I jealous because a woman just gave Sherlock her number? No, that can't be it. Can it? Why would I be jealous anyway, it's not as if I liked him or anything... Right? Of course I don't, I like women... Am I bothered then? Maybe... People keep assuming that he is straight. But is that it? It has to be it..." John's thoughts were interrupted by the consulting detective asking him "John? Are you alright? You seem nervous..." "Yes, I'm fine, I'm good" interrupted the army doctor giving Sherlock a fake smile but Sherlock didn't buy it, he knew that something was going through John's mind: he was sweaty and avoiding eye contact with Sherlock, clear signs of nervousness 'But what could John be so nervous about?' thought to himself Sherlock, still trying to deduce his friends' thoughts but interrupted by John asking him, still nervous "Um, Sherlock, it's getting late so, erm, we should probably head back home" "Of course" simply replied the detective. They both payed for the food and went back to 221B, both immerse on their thoughts.

Sherlock and John said goodnight to each other once in the flat and went to their rooms to get some rest. However, it took Sherlock a long time to fall asleep since he started thinking again about John denying that they were dating when people asked. John denied it as if only the thought of them both being together repelled him... Sherlock felt sick just imagining that John could actually be repelled by him. But why did he care so much? He was used to people rejecting him and telling him mean things but when it came to John... When it came to John, Sherlock cared: he cared about how John saw him, he cared about John's critics and compliments, he was even a bit scared that John could leave him because he got tired of his "non ordinary" habits and such. After a while, this spiral of negative thoughts that had been in Sherlock's mind, seemed to disappear when the consulting detective realized, with ta huge and genuine smile plastered on his face, that John was the only person to accept him from the very first moment. Was Sherlock Holmes, the man who claimed to be emotionless, starting to have feelings for his flatmate and best friend John Watson?


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Sherlock woke up early next morning and decided to go play violin so he could go into his mind palace but his thoughts were interrupted a couple of hours later by John walking down the stairs from his room to go get some breakfast "Good morning Sherlock. Do you want some tea?" asked the doctor while preparing the kettle. "Yes" replied Sherlock a bit nervous 'why am I so nervous about' thought the detective to himself 'it's just John asking me for tea'.

A few minutes later, John came back from the kitchen and handed Sherlock one of the cups of tea he was holding. Both men sat on their respective armchairs, John reading the newspaper, and Sherlock finding it inevitable to stare at his flat mate. He has never noticed how handsome John actually was: his blonde grayish hair, his dark green eyes, as deep as the sea; his shirt wrapping his upper body... 'Good heavens. What am I even doing?' thought Sherlock to himself with a little smile on his face, not taking his eyes off John who, suddenly looked up from the newspaper and asked "What's so funny, Sherlock?" "N-Nothing. It's just that you spilled a little bit of tea on your shirt" replied the detective, whose face was now turning burning red, clearly embarrassed that John caught him staring. 'Oh shit. I'll better go get changed' said John chucking and heading to his room to grab a clean shirt. 

Sherlock couldn't help but thinking how John would look like shirtless, he used to be in the army, so he must be quite fit. Sherlock's face turned even more red and he almost choked on his tea at the thought of the army doctor being shirtless. 'What is wrong with me today? I am fantasizing about my flat mate John, my pulse is accelerating every time he is near, my stomach doesn't feel like usual whenever he approaches me... Oh no.' the detective's eyes opened wildly 'I have feelings for John Watson... No, it can't be possible. Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side and I don't have feelings. Or do I?' kept on thinking the detective with his eyes on John, who still was writing his blog, the whole time 'Analyzing all the factors that I have been experiencing recently, to have feelings for my flat mate is the only possibility.' Sherlock, after a while of thinking about his feelings for John, started to feel a bit blue, because John would never like him back... , since the army doctor always showed interest towards women. That, however, didn't mean that he was totally straight. Sherlock had been analyzing John, they lived together so Sherlock found it inevitable, and deduced that, even though if he didn't admit it, John was not straight. 'Bisexual maybe?' asked to himself the detective. 

Again, Sherlock's thoughts were interrupted by John asking the detective if he wanted something for lunch, Sherlock nodded, and they ordered some Chinese, ate it and spent the rest of the afternoon in the flat.

A week later, John had already started working in a hospital where he met this gorgeous woman: Sarah. The doctor, after a few days working there, couldn't resist it anymore and asked Sarah on a date, to which she happily accepted.

Grinning and with a huge smile plastered on his face, John arrived to 221B and, as soon as he entered into the flat, Sherlock, who had been working very hard on a case, told him "I need to get some air, we're going out tonight"

"Uhm, actually, I've got a date" replied John.

"What?!" said Sherlock a little bit louder than he intended to, feeling a mixture of anger and jealousy "it's when two people who like each other go out and have fun" said John laughing a bit. Then Sherlock, with all he courage he could find, answered "That's what I was suggesting". He couldn't believe that he just admitted that he wanted a date with John. "No it's not. Or at least I hope it's not" said the doctor, chuckling and obviously unaware of how those words hurt Sherlock.

John, after a while, started getting ready for his date with Sarah. He was very nervous because, lately, his dates weren't ending very well because, even though John could feel attracted to his date, it didn't feel right... Once he was ready, he leaves the apartment with a grumpy Sherlock in it.

When John arrived at the restaurant where Sarah and him were going to have dinner, that the woman was already there. The doctor apologized for being late, but she didn't mind at all.

The date started off right, both sharing anecdotes, childhood memories... When both were done with their dinner, John payed for it and accompanied her home, since she didn't live far from the restaurant. The night was beautiful; the sky full of stars, it was quiet, the moon was shining...

They arrived to Sarah's house and, when she leaned on to kiss John, but he instinctively avoided it, it just didn't feel right, but why? Sarah, instead of being mad or sad, simply smiled and very softly said "John, I know you are gay, and it's fine, really..."

"what?! I'm not gay! I like women! Why does everybody assume that I am gay?!" John replied loudly. Sarah, again, smiled a little and said "I know you and Sherlock are going to be very happy together..."

"For god's sake Sarah! I don't like Sherlock! We are just friends!" answered the doctor, almost screaming. "Oh, John come on! You talked about Sherlock almost all the time, and I've read your blog... It's pretty obvious" she said chuckling:

"Well, John, I have to go, thanks for tonight, I had a lot of fun! Good night"

"Good night" said John.

On his way back home, he couldn't take off his mind what Sarah told him. 'I am not gay. Am I? I mean, yes, Sherlock is a very attractive man with his beautiful eyes, and his cheekbones and those dark curls falling on his smooth forehead skin, but... Oh my god. Do I really like Sherlock? Well, it doesn't really matter if I do because there is no way that he is ever going to reciprocate since he doesn't believe in love and such' thought John. He had never been attracted to a man before but it's true that when he was around Sherlock he felt different, and despite the fact of believing that Sherlock could never like him back, John hoped that there was, at least, a small chance that his feelings were reciprocated.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The following day, John was still very confused about what his date said the previous night; the doctor decided to put these thoughts away and go prepare himself a cup of tea.

To his surprise, Sherlock wasn't awake yet. His heart sunk a little when he noticed the absence of his flat mate. 'What on Earth is wrong with me?' thought to himself the doctor. Not long after John had sat in his armchair and grabbed his laptop to write on his blog the recent case Sherlock had solved, the detective came out of his room, already dressed with his button up shirt and slacks. The shirt, was his purple shirt, the one that was a little too tight around his chest. It seemed that he had brushed his dark curly hair, or at least attempted to. John couldn't help it but stare at Sherlock. He looked handsome. The doctor could feel a slight brush spreading over his cheeks; he started "reading" the newspaper so his flat mate couldn't see his face blushing. "Where are you going, Sherlock" asked, curious and clearly nervous, John.

"I'm going to see Lestrade" plainly replied the detective while putting on his trench coat and scarf.

Once in the street, Sherlock had a huge, genuine smile plastered on his face; he purposely had attempted to look good to impress John, and it seemed to work because, even though the doctor thought Sherlock didn't see him, the detective saw his friend's cheeks blush and how he was staring at him. Despite that, Sherlock didn't believe John could like him.

The doctor, still sitting on his armchair, decided to get dressed and go out for a walk to clear his mind. He still couldn't believe that he had been staring at Sherlock and blushing. 'Oh, good heavens, I do like him...' started thinking John, while walking 'How did that happen? I have never in my life been attracted to a man... '. The doctor kept thinking about his feelings for his flat mate until it started raining and he decided to go back to the flat.

He arrived to the flat soaking wet and trembling from cold and saw Lestrade there, sitting in his armchair, probably to talk to Sherlock about some case. "Hey there, John! I was just telling Sherlock about this new case..."

Sherlock came in the room with two cups of tea, one for him and the other one for Lestrade, and when he noticed John he started getting a bit nervous and, therefore, almost dropping the cups of tea he was holding, causing Greg to smirk. John just frowned, left the room and went to the shower.

When the doctor came out of the shower, he saw that Lestrade had already left, and asked Sherlock about the case he offered him. "I've already solved it" simply said the detective. John, who was trying not to seem too impressed by the fact that Sherlock had solved it so fast, said "Oh, okay" and then, the consulting detective, looking up from the newspaper he was reading, asked shyly "Dinner?". John smiled, slightly, and replied "Starving."

At that precise moment, Mrs. Hudson came into the flat and said "Oh! My boys are going on a date!!" "N-No, Mrs. Hudson, we are just going to have dinner we are not-" John was interrupted by their land lady saying "Ah, I am fine with it, there is no need to hide... Anyway, You boys have fun!!" she exclaimed, heading to the kitchen to place the food she had just bought to Sherlock and John.

Both men decided to go to a Chinese restaurant and, at first, there was a little bit of tension between them two, but after a while they started talking and everything went back to the usual.

After a couple hours, they were done with dinner and decided to go by foot back to 221B. They didn't talk much on their way back, the silence they were sharing was not uncomfortable at all. John looked at Sherlock a couple of times and realized that under the moon light, lots of shadows appeared on his friend's face, giving him a threatening but at the same time attractive aspect and the doctor, realizing how handsome the detective was, smiled, and looked away so that his flat mate couldn't catch him staring. Sherlock, out of the corner of his eye, looked at John too, he could see he was smiling, what about, he didn't know and didn't care, as long as he could see John smile. The doctor looked very handsome under the moon light...

"What a beautiful night" said the doctor almost whispering, while looking up at the sky full of bright stars. Sherlock, who was still looking at john replied "Yes. It is indeed beautiful". But that moment got interrupted due to Sherlock's phone ringing.

"Sherlock Holmes, who is this?" after a brief pause, Sherlock continued "We'll be there in 20 minutes", and he hung up. "I'm guessing it was Lestrade calling for a case" said John. "You guessed right. A boy has been found dead in the swimming pool, but Lestrade believes that it could be a murder, so we need to go there and help".

They hailed a cab and went straight to the local swimming pool where Donovan greeted them "The freak and John are going in!" she said to the other officers. John hated how Donovan treated Sherlock, who didn't seem to care at all about the woman insulting him, but every time the army doctor heard Donovan's words... he felt furious.

Once they were in, Lestrade started telling them about the dead man "His name was Holden Byers. 19 years old. He was a very promising athlete. He had some sort of fit in the water. When they got him out... it was too late."

John got close to the corpse and started examining to see if there were any indicators of the cause of the boy's death but he couldn't find anything relevant. When the doctor was done, it was the detective's turn to examine the body. Once he finished, without saying a word, he headed to the dressing rooms.

"What exactly are you looking for, Sherlock?" asked John, curious.

The detective ignored the question and opened a locker where he found Holden's bag, clothes and phone.

"hm." Murmured Sherlock.

"what is it?" asked Watson, getting close to where the slender man was standing.

"The shoes are missing... That's odd." Said Sherlock frowning and putting his hands under his chin, just like he always did when he was thinking. Several minutes passed, until Sherlock opened wildly his eyes and stormed out of the dressing rooms running.

Lestrade looked at John, clearly confused, and John looked back at him and just shrugged his shoulders. Both men, decided to see where the consulting detective was going.

They found him looking inside a trash can. He kept on looking in it for a while until he got out exclaiming "Found them!"

"You found what?" said Lestrade, pissed because he was not understanding what was going on.

Sherlock just smiled and said with pride "The shoes".


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

A/N: THIS IS STILL BASED ON THE EPISODE 3, SEASON 1 OF SHERLOCK, THE BBC SERIE THE GREAT GAME.

Guys I really want to thank you for all the support I am receiving! I am so glad to see that you are enjoying the fanfic!

Feel free to comment your thoughts, suggestions, what you think is going to happen... ;)

Here's Chapter 6. Hope y'all enjoy it!!!

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The next morning Sherlock and John went to the lab to examine the evidence collected from the crime scene. While examining some of Holden's clothes, the detective and the doctor's hand brushed accidentally. They both looked down to their hands, both trying to hide their smiles, feeling butterflies on their stomachs. Sherlock gazed into John's beautiful green eyes until the doctor cleared his throat and went back to work, with his face burning red.   
After a while, Sherlock proceeded to examine the shoes, meanwhile John was talking to Molly, asking her if she'd found anything odd on Holden Byers' corpse, but she said that she didn't find anything.  
The detective was totally focused on what he was doing. He was sure that those trainers were the key to solve the murder 'but how?'started thinking to himself 'Why would the shoes be in a trash can? Did Holden throw them away? Impossible. How can a pair of shoes be related to the boy's murder?'. The detective kept examining minutely the shoes with the microscope while John kept pacing around the room for several minutes until Sherlock finally looked up from the microscope, directly at John, and told him "Go on, then".  
"Eh?" asked the doctor with a confused look on his face.  
"Do what I do. Off you go", said the detective  
"No!" exclaimed John, a little angry.  
"Come on, go on" insisted Sherlock.   
"I'm not going to sit there so you can humiliate -" started saying the doctor, clearly pissed.  
"An outside eye. Second opinion, it's very useful to me" interrupted Sherlock. John just shrugged, grabbed the shoes and started his deductions  
"Hmmm. Well, they are a pair of trainers, I'd say new but the soles are well-worn so, Holden must have had them for a while now..."  
"Yup", plainly said the detective while his friend kept examining the shoes.  
"However, the boy cleaned them recently, so he must have liked these a lot."  
"And?" inquired the detective, amazed at his flat mate, who even though missing the most important things was doing very good and looked very adorable while trying to deduce.  
"That's it" said John "how did I do?" asked, quite unsure of how to feel. He was trying to do what Sherlock did, and he was extremely nervous, since he really wanted to impress him, even though he knew that he didn't do as good as the detective would've. He really admired the way Sherlock never missed any details about anything. John thought that what his friend did was brilliant; deducing people's lives just by looking at them or at some object related to the person... It was extremely fascinating.  
"Really well, John, really well", said the detective with the corner of his lips slightly turned upwards. John, too, smiled with triumph.  
"I mean" started saying the detective, smirking "you missed almost everything of importance, but you know..." John stopped smiling and cleared his throat.  
"As you said, Holden loved these. He scrubbed them clean, whitened them where the color started to disappear and changed the laces three... no, four times. Even so, there are traces of flaky skin where his fingers have come in contact with them, so he suffered from eczema. The trainers are well worn but much more so on the inner side. Which means that Holden had weak arches."   
John's jaw dropped to the floor "Amazing" is all he could say. Sherlock never ceased to amaze the doctor, how could he deduce so much from just a pair of shoes?   
"I know", said the detective with a tiny smile on his face.

Two days after, the two men were still working on the case. Sherlock couldn't still figure out how those trainers could be related to Holden's murder, he knew they were the key to solve it but, how?  
Sherlock was bent onto his microscope with two cold tea cups next to him. Mrs. Hudson entered in the kitchen with a trade with a new hot cup of tea "Don't know why I even bother", she said, mostly to herself, when John came into the room as well. "john! Thank God you are here!", said the woman "he hasn't moved from there since this morning!" she said exasperated.  
Suddenly, Sherlock sits back, eyes glittering with triumph. "Clever, very clever", he said.  
Mrs. Hudson asked "What are you on about?". The slender man looked up from the microscope, again, thrilled, and screamed "Clostridioum Botilinum! One of the deadliest poisons on Earth!"  
Sherlock then, noticed Mrs. Hudson, who didn't understand what was going on; thanked her for the tea, once he saw the cups next to him; and told her to leave. He then directed at John  
"Remember the shoe laces?" asked the detective, not being able to contain his emotion.  
"Yeah, what about them?" wanted to know John.  
"The boy suffered from eczema. It would be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication. A few hours later, he went swimming, the poison took effect, paralyzed Holden's muscles and he drowned" explained Sherlock.   
"How come the autopsy didn't -"? John's question was interrupted by the detective.  
"Virtually undetectable. There were tiny traces left in the trainers, from where he'd rubbed the cream into his feet. That's why the murderer threw them away!"  
"Impressive. But who would do that to a poor 19-year-old?", asked John.  
"That my dear Watson, is a very good question." John blushed a little when he heard 'my dear Watson' but it didn't last long because Sherlock carried on with his deductions.  
"Introducing that kind of poison into someone's medicine was done purposely, which means that it had to be someone Holden Byers knew and who had access to his things, therefore, who went swimming at a similar time Holden did. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that the person was friends with Byers." Stated the detective, now with his hands below his chin and eyes closed, his thinking position.'Well, this is going to take a while, so I better get myself comfortable' thought John. This way, he sat on his armchair and started writing the case on his blog. Not much later, Sherlock opened his eyes and said "Marty Reed"  
"Sorry?" asked John.  
"Marty Reed, he killed Holden Byers." Said Sherlock as if it was the most obvious thing. John opened his mouth to ask a question but before he could say anything the detective started talking  
"Walking through the dressing room I noticed that Marty had the same bag as Holden, so they went to the same Highschool - both bags had the same Highscool logo -. Marty was not a very popular boy. He was probably what people like to call "a nerd", since a poison like the one he used, wouldn't have been used by anyone... And seeing that no lockers near him were occupied confirms my thesis that Marty was not someone who people wanted to be friends with; while lockers near Holden Byers were all taken, sometimes even shared so that they didn't have to be near Reed, so he was a popular boy, people wanted to be around him... Marty wanted to feel integrated in the popular group but they kept on rejecting him. That same day, Marty attempted again to be in their group and somehow, Holden Byers mocked him, making Marty feel like he was nothing, so as a revenge, he introduced that same morning the poison in Holden's medicine meticulously calculating the time it would take for the poison to take effect so that it coincided with the moment Holden would be in the pool swimming. Then, the poison would start working and, therefore, paralyzing Holden Byers' muscles and making him drown, so it all looked like an accident."  
John was astonished. He stared at Sherlock with admiration and thought to himself 'He looks so attractive when he is making his deductions..."but his thoughts were interrupted by his flat mate telling him "Call Lestrade. Tell him I have solved the case. We are going to Scotland Yard", said Sherlock while putting on his trench coat and his blue scarf. John nodded and, while calling Lestrade and getting out of the flat, the detective had hailed a cab and for once, waited for the doctor to get in.  
They arrived to Scotland Yard and Sherlock explained to Lestrade everything that he'd told John moments earlier. The doctor just looked at his friend, fascinated.   
The police arrested Marty Reed, and he confessed it all. After that, Sherlock and John went back to their flat.  
After a week or so, both men feelings towards each other did nothing but become stronger.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Days passed and the two men were not getting any new interesting cases; John was fine with it because that meant that he could totally focus on his job as a doctor, but Sherlock wasn't taking it so well... He used to smoke ass another alternative to drugs but, after a few weeks, the doctor told him to quit, since it was not good for his health. Sherlock quitted smoking and he had been doing quite good, until one morning, when John was sitting on his armchair while reading a nice book and enjoying a cup of tea, the consulting detective emerged from his room with his pyjamas on and his blue robe, all of the sudden, and started screaming

"I'm bored!"

John's blog had been growing quite a lot and it became very well-known all around the world, so people would write their case there and both, the detective and the doctor, decided if they wanted to take it or not.

"What about that Swedish case?" asked John, in order to find a case for his friend so he would calm down.

"Domestic murder. Not worth my time." , said Sherlock while laying down on the couch.

"Ah, shame" said sarcastically the doctor, while walking to the kitchen. "Is there anything to eat? I'm starving"

Sherlock ignored the question and John kept on looking at the empty cupboards to find something to eat. Then, he opened the fridge, saw a head in there and suddenly closed the door "Oh!" exclaimed John, opening the fridge again to see that he was not hallucinating. No, he wasn't. There was a head in their fridge.

"It's a head..." murmured the doctor. "A severed head in our bloody fridge" said the doctor loudly.

"Just a tea for me, thanks" plainly said Sherlock. John, going back to the living room, started asking anxiously to the detective

"How's a severed head in the fridge?!"

"Yes." Simply replied the detective, still laying on the couch.

"A bloody head!" said John, not being able to contain his anger.

"Where else was I supposed to put it?" replied the slender man. John was livid, he didn't even have words for this.

"I am measuring the coagulation of saliva after death" stated Sherlock. Watson face palmed. 'He can really be a pain in the ass sometimes' thought the doctor to himself.

"I see you have written our last case on your blog" said the detective, trying to change the subject.

"Yes..." said John, who was now sitting on his armchair.

"The Clever Game, nice"

"Well, you know, it was well played; poison in the medicine, the shoes were the key to solve the case... It was clever..." John did a small pause to gather the courage to ask "Did you like it?"

"Eeeeeeeeh. Nope" said the detective, who was now reading a magazine. The doctor just stared at him with a sad look on his eyes and went back to reading the newspaper.

Minutes after Sherlock suddenly got up from the sofa, looked straight into his flat mates' eyes and said

"John. I need some, get me some."

The doctor, that knew exactly what he was referring to, maintained the eye contact and said

"No."

"Get me some!" insisted the detective nervously.

"I said no!". John didn't want Sherlock to smoke again. He didn't want anything to happen to him...

Sherlock just inhaled deeply and started throwing all of his papers away, looking for cigarettes. The doctor couldn't help it but smile a little, he was a crazy man sometimes but after all, it was the crazy man he had feelings for.

"Come on Sherlock! You were doing so well, don't give up now..."

"Tell me where they are!", ordered the detective

"No!"

Sherlock actually felt bad with himself for wanting to smoke: he felt like he was letting his best friend down, and therefore, losing the chances to date him some day. Besides that, the detective still felt the urge to smoke and decided to use his best weapon; he gave John a look with puppy eyes and, trying to calm down said

"John, please..."

John was shocked for a few seconds 'did he just say please?' but he went back to reality and replied

"I can't, I'm sorry..."

The detective then went back to throwing all of his stuff on the floor in order to find his cigarettes. After a long while, Sherlock was still looking in every corner of the flat to find some cigarettes but he found none. He sat on his armchair moving nervously on it.

"I need a case!" he screamed

"You just solved one" John replied quite pissed.

"Ugh! That was this morning! When's the next one?"

This went on for several minutes, that seemed hours to the doctor, until Lestrade called them for a new case.

Sherlock was really excited. John loved to see him that happy (even though if it was because someone had been murdered and he was chosen to solve the case); his eyes sparkled a little more than usual giving him a more... human appearance, also, he smiled genuinely. A smile that only John had the good fortune of seeing. 'He has such a beautiful smile..." the doctor thought to himself while putting on his coat.

Not much later, they were at a little book shop, where a 28-year-old woman had been seriously injured during a robbery. Everything developed as usual; Lestrade would tell them the facts about the victim; John would examine the body, the Sherlock did the same thing and finally, they went to interrogate people who were close to the victim, whose name was Jane Miller.

That way, after a few minutes at the crime scene, the two men headed to the hospital to ask some questions to one of Jane's best friends: Neil Lee.

When the detective and the doctor arrived to Jane's room they knocked on the door and went in, where Jane was laying in the hospital bed in a coma, they also found the man, sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs, holding Jane's hand and with red and swollen eyes, from all the crying. He clearly hadn't moved from there in hours and he had had no rest either.

On their way there, John had told Sherlock to be gentle with Neil, since that was a difficult time for him, so the consulting detective, following his friend's advice, started asking him about simple things like her daily routine, people who were close to her...

Neil couldn't stop crying while talking about his best friend, and the way he talked about Jane and how his eyes sparkled a little when he mentioned his best friend, made both, detective and doctor, assume that he was Jane's boyfriend. That's when Sherlock asked him

"Okay, and how long have you two been dating?"

Neil just chuckled and trying to hold back the tears said

"I wish..." Sherlock looked at John very confused. He deduced wrong. John just gave him a little smile, and Neil continued talking

"you see, the thing is I have been in love with her for 2 years now, but I have never had the courage to tell her how I felt and now..." he tried to restrain the tears, took a deep breath and kept on saying "Now, I am afraid it's going to be too late..."

Sherlock instinctively looked at John, who was staring back. Both of them were thinking about what Neil Just said. He never told Jane he loved her and now, it could be too late for him now. Both men smiled sadly at each other, and they stayed like that, just staring and smiling at each other for a few seconds, until they went back to reality. They cleared their throats, clearly uncomfortable, since Neil had seen it all, and Sherlock said

"That's all we are going to need for today." And after John had said goodbye to Neil, the two men went back to 221B, still thinking about what happened in that hospital room.

What Neil said hit Sherlock very hard. What if he lost John one day, and he hadn't told him that he loved him? No. He couldn't even handle the thought of losing his best friend. He then thought about telling John how he felt towards him but then he started thinking 'If I told him, he would probably abandon me... There's no way he can like someone like me. Right?'. After spending several minutes thinking about that, he thought 'Why can't I delete these thoughts?' 'Sentiment. Damn it.' And right after, he fell asleep.

John was having trouble to sleep too. What Neil said... Sherlock was exposed to danger almost every day, what if at some point something happened to him and the doctor hadn't been able to confess him how he felt? 'It wouldn't matter anyway, if I did confess my feelings towards him... He is always saying how he doesn't want to get involved in any romantic entanglements and such...' John chuckled, sighed and not much later, fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Next morning, John and Sherlock headed again to the hospital to ask Neil some more questions, but once they were there, they found Jane's bed empty and Neil crying helplessly next to it.

After a while, they were told that Jane couldn't make it and they proceeded to ask a few more questions to the victim's friend, and suddenly, while Neil was talking, Sherlock opened his eyes and stormed out of the room, leaving behind a very confused John and Neil; the doctor apologized, gave his condolences to the man for his loss and went to look for his friend.

Not much after, they were at Lestrade's office, explaining him how the crime had been committed. Turns out that Jane had been injured by one of her ex-boyfriends: Josh Thompson; as a revenge for leaving him a few months ago. He went to Jane's shop to try, again, to take her back but she, of course rejected him and this caused the man to get furious and not to be able to control his actions; this way, he attacked Jane. When he realized what he was doing, she was laying unconscious on the floor, he panicked - because he thought she was dead -, and ran away, explained the detective.

Greg was astonished, and so was John; how could he possibly solve crimes so fast? It was a mystery to them. Sometimes John wished that he could be inside the detective's mind to see how it worked because it never ceased to amaze him how smart Sherlock was.

This time though, John noticed that something was wrong with Sherlock because, when he was explaining everything that occurred at the crime scene, he wasn't doing it with pride and proving how clever he was, as he usually did, this time the consulting detective just explained the facts, not emphasizing his intelligence and how easy this case had been. Greg didn't seem to notice, but the doctor did. Afterwards, they proceeded to interrogate the suspect, Josh Thompson, and he confessed everything at once.

When they were done at Scotland Yard, the detective and the doctor hailed a cab to go home and on their way back to 221B, both men were feeling blue because of the case that had just been solved; a man who was secretly in love with his best friend, never told her because he was too afraid and now it was too late for him.

John, who still believed that there was something bothering or concerning the detective, decided to ask Sherlock what was wrong with him but the detective only looked at him and said

"There's nothing wrong with me, John, I'm fine."

John could swear that he glimpsed sadness in the detective's eyes for a short second, but Watson just nodded and decided to look out the window. Neither of the two men said anything during the journey until they arrived home, when the doctor, trying to break the ice, asked

"Tea?"

But he got no response. Instead, Sherlock picked up his violin and started playing. John sat on his armchair and listened to him, with his eyes closed. After a while, though, the doctor started to feel tired so he went to his room to have some sleep.

"Good night Sherlock", he said, yawning. Still no response from his flat mate. 'What has gotten into him?' thought John to himself.

The detective was sad, he really was. He was in love with his flat mate and best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. The slender man had decided not to confess his feelings to John due to his fear of being rejected anyhow. But still, Sherlock was afraid that he'd lose John one day without having told him how he felt.

Sherlock was not really an emotional person so when he felt such strong feelings like the ones he was experiencing at that moment, the only way he found to express them was to play violin. So that's what he did; he couldn't even look at John because it hurt him. It hurt him to know that his love wouldn't be reciprocated. It hurt him to ignore John and see the concern on his face, but he couldn't talk to him; he just couldn't... 'Sentiment' thought Sherlock to himself smiling sadly 'What a waste of time.' However, the detective couldn't help but to feel a hollow inside him. He had always felt it but learnt to live with it; now, however..., it intensified... His head was being ruled by his emotions right now; he couldn't think clearly; he was overwhelmed by his own emotions. He had never felt like this before... He was beside himself.

Sherlock kept on playing violin for several hours, not caring about what time it was nor if John could hear him from his room. He just felt the imperial need to keep on playing to keep his thoughts aside. But it didn't really work; his mind was all over the place, asking questions that he might never get the answers to.

John felt really sad too. He couldn't stand the thought of liking Sherlock so much and not being able to tell him due to his poltroonery. He had a heavy heart at that moment. He was also very worried about his best friend; he knew that something was wrong with him, even if he denied it. But Watson couldn't tell what was it that was concerning his friend so much and he felt bad about himself for not being able to help Sherlock...

The doctor could hear his flat mate playing the violin downstairs, He always enjoyed it when Sherlock played violin. It wasn't only the pieces he played that John enjoyed, it was also the elegance and class of his hands movements on the violin, the passion and sentiment his pieces transmitted; it's almost as if those musical compositions were talking to him, telling him how Sherlock was feeling.

That night, his flat mate spent many hours playing his violin, but this time the pieces he played sounded much more melancholic...

After a while listening to Sherlock playing his violin, thinking about how there was no way that his friend could reciprocate his feelings, John couldn't help it but to burst into tears. He cried his heart out until he fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

John woke up to the sound of Sherlock's violin. 'Has he stayed awake all night?' asked the doctor to himself; he just shrugged and went downstairs to have some breakfast.

"Good morning Sherlock" he said. No response. John was still concerned about his friend and asked him

"Sherlock, are you okay? You've been acting quite strange since yesterday..." his sentence was interrupted by the detective

"I already told you that I am fine", he said.

"Okay... Do you want something to eat for breakfast?" John inquired while looking for something edible to eat. But Sherlock simply replied that he was not hungry and went back to playing his violin.

Once John had his breakfast prepared, he sat on his armchair trying to read the newspaper but he couldn't focus. He was still thinking about how much he liked Sherlock and how much it hurt him that he would never be able to tell him due to his fear of rejection. Seeing Sherlock in that state, so dejected, did nothing but make John feel sadder. His heart sunk a little when he looked up at where his flat mate was standing; he looked extremely tired, probably for not having slept last night; he hadn't even changed his clothes. But what was bothering Sherlock so much? John felt helpless... He couldn't stand seeing the man he liked so much suffer that way while knowing that he couldn't do anything about it.

After a while of staring at Sherlock and wondering what was it that was bothering him so much, the doctor decided to go get some fresh air. This way, he got dressed and headed to the street.

John, though, couldn't get Sherlock out of his mind; all the moments they shared, the laughers... everything. "Why do I even care so much? Said the doctor chuckling "I try to help him and he doesn't want to talk... But I can't see him like this... It hurts too much." He continued saying, now with tears in his eyes.

Not much after, John decided to call Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, to talk to him and see if he could advise him in any way. Even if he didn't show it much, Mycroft really cared about his little brother.

They arranged a meeting for the following week, since the elder Holmes was busy until then.

Sherlock hadn't had any sleep the previous night; he just played violin. He needed to distract himself from all those thoughts about his feelings, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. When John left the apartment, Sherlock stopped playing violin and went to his room where he laid on his bed, with his eyes closed. Then, suddenly, he felt a lump on his throat and for the first time in years, he cried. Sherlock Holmes cried. 'I must be able to keep myself distant... to divorce myself from... feelings.' He started thinking 'But my body is betraying me...' he continued to think, now smiling sadly. Sherlock most definitely didn't want to keep feeling that way.

He felt even worse when he thought about how he was pushing john, his best friend and flat mate, away... He was hurting him and he knew that, but he couldn't help it.

Sherlock had been receiving texts from Lestrade telling him that they needed his help, but the detective just ignored them. He didn't feel like solving crimes.

John came back from his walk and saw Sherlock asleep on the couch. He smiled and sat on his armchair, where he spent several minutes looking at his asleep friend; he looked so innocent, so relaxed... His lips were slightly parted, his long eyelashes were now on his prominent cheekbones, and his curls were falling on his smooth and pale forehead.

The doctor's smile widened when he realized that he had fallen for is flat mate; he was in love with Sherlock Holmes.

He kept on staring at the detective while thinking how badly he wanted to lay next to him, but how he lacked the courage to do so. His smile faded a little when he started thinking about how fascinating Sherlock was and how hopelessly boring he was... Suddenly, the consulting detective opened his eyes and saw John staring. 'Has he been watching me sleep?' asked to himself.

John tried to look away but it was too late: Sherlock saw that he had been staring. His face was now burning red of embarrassment. He coughed uncomfortably, and clearly nervous and started reading the newspaper to hide his embarrassment. Sherlock just smiled a little bit.

That afternoon, the detective seemed to act more like usual, so he stopped thinking that there was something bothering him. 'He must've been tired' thought John to himself. But there was something that wasn't quite right... John couldn't tell what but he could feel it.

The doctor asked Sherlock if he wanted anything for dinner but he refused. He hadn't eaten anything since the day before... But John let it go.

Sherlock started playing violin again when Mrs. Hudson came into the apartment with a few bags from the store and asked

"Well Sherlock, that is a very nice piece, never heard it before."

"Composing?" asked John.

"Helps me to think" simply replied the detective, going back to pla his violin.

John sat on his armchair and contemplated Sherlock playing violin. There was something very majestic while he did that; his delicate hands moved very gracefully when he drew the bow across the strings making that wonderful music that filled the silent room... Also, his usually frowned face looked very relaxed and passionate while he was playing; his features softened and his eyes were closed but his heart was open, since the pieces Sherlock played were his way of telling people how he felt. John could spend entire days watching his best friend playing, and he wouldn't get tired of it.

What John didn't get, though, was why was Sherlock playing such sad songs; he seems fine... right? 'It's Sherlock anyway' started to think to himself the doctor 'He keeps his emotions aside. He says that they are a waste of time...'. John felt really sorry for Sherlock in that moment; Sherlock must have experienced very tough things through his life to make him build this walls that separate him from his own emotions.

After a long while of staring at his very handsome and talented flat mate, the doctor realized how late it was and decided to go to get some sleep. Before that, though, John said

"Sherlock, you know that I'm here for you, right? If you need to talk or anything you can just-" his sentence was interrupted by the detective

"I told you I'm fine" he said, hoping that his voice didn't betray him.

"Okay, then. Good night Sherlock" said the doctor trying to smile and to hide the tears in his eyes.

Once John was in his room, he laid on his bed and started crying his eyes out. It hurt him so much to see Sherlock like that, pushing everyone around him away and not being aware of it. He cried until he fell asleep.

Sherlock, after a while, headed to his room as well, where again, he felt this lump in his throat. He was devastated. He couldn't stand the thought that he was hurting and pushing John away, the only person who accepted him from the very first moment. Sherlock felt disgusted with himself and once again, he couldn't help it but start crying. He kept on crying for several hours until he managed to calm down. However, he was not able to fall asleep so he spent the entire night sitting on his armchair watching crap telly and criticizing everything about it.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

A week had passed and the situation didn't improve: Sherlock was still moping around and bogged in bitterness and resentment. John was desperate, he didn't know what to do. It hurt him real bad to see his best friend and man he loved to be in such pain and not being able to help.

That day John was meeting with Mycroft to see if he could help him in any way, if he could know anyhow what was bothering his little brother.

Now sitting on his armchair, the doctor looked up to where his flat mate was: Sherlock was laying on the couch, hands resting under his chin, his typical thinking position. He had been there like that for hours and he was a total mess: dark circles under his eyes, his usually smooth curls were all messy and disheveled, he was much thinner because he was barely eating...

After a while, John decided to prepare for his meeting with Mycroft. He decided to dress up a little more formal than usual; he went for a simple white shirt, a tie and a sport coat. He looked in the mirror once more to make sure he looked appropriate.

He felt like he was doing something bad... Like he was betraying Sherlock... 'I am not betraying him' thought to himself the doctor 'I am trying to help him'. Once he was done, he went backstairs and told Sherlock

"I'm going for a walk. I'll be back in a while". The detective didn't respond. John just sighed sadly and when he got out of the flat, a black car, sent by Mycroft, was waiting for him.

The ride wasn't very long, but it felt like ages to John. He was very nervous. A man gave him directions to arrive to the place where he was meet with Sherlock's brother.

Not much after, he arrived at Mycroft's office. It wasn't very big nor very decorated. It had one chair below a big window with amazing views. There were also some wooden book shelves, one tiny shelf in front of the window and another one, much bigger, full of books, at the end of the room and in front of it, there was a very organized desk; there was a small lamp on it, two phones and a pile of papers.

John noticed that there were two paintings hanging on the room's walls. The doctor looked at the time and wondered where would Mycroft be and at that exact moment, the man entered in the room.

"My apologies for being late, I was in a meeting", he said

"Oh, don't worry, it's fine" said the doctor with a warm smile.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" asked Mycroft, who was now sitting on the chair behind his desk.

"Yes, please" he replied.

He asked for the tea through one of the phones on his desk and a few minutes after, a man came into Mycroft's office with a tray with two nice hot cups of tea and some pastries, he left it on the Sherlock's brother desk and left.

"So tell me, John, what is it that brought you here?" asked the detective's brother.

"Uh, well you see... It's about Sherlock I wanted to talk you about..."

"What about him?" asked Mycroft with a bit of concern in his voice.

"It's just... He has been down in the dumps lately. He just plays sad song on his violin, he doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep, he doesn't solve cases..." he made a pause and took a deep breath before continuing "He doesn't even talk to me..." he said looking down at the floor and with sadness in his voice.

Mycroft looked at John and simply asked

"You really care about him, don't you?". John looked at him without knowing quite well what to answer to that. Of course, he cared about him, he loved Sherlock...

"Yes. I guess I do" responded the doctor smiling sadly. Mycroft smiled back and said

"Well, with the facts you have given me, I would say that my little brother is suffering from a broken heart."

"What? Sherlock? Heartbreak? But he is not like that. He doesn't feel things that way. I think."

"My brother, has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he chooses to be a detective. What might we deduce about his heart?"

John was very confused.

"I don't know" he said.

"Neither do I" responded Mycroft "But initially, he wanted to be a pirate." He smiled briefly, then his glare became distant. John smiled back. He wasn't quite sure about what that meant but before he could say anything Mycroft said

"Well, I am sorry for not being able to help you, John. The only advice I can give you is what I have always told Sherlock: Caring is not an advantage. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a very important meeting that I must attend to." He said while standing up and walking John to the door.

"Thank you for your time Mycroft." Said John before leaving.

"John, wait." Said Mycroft. John looked back and saw that the detective's brother indicated him to go into his office again. John nodded and did. He sat down. Mycroft was looking at him with, again, concern in his eyes.

"John... I'm aware that you know that Sherlock smokes-" his sentence was interrupted by john

"Yes. But he quit a few months ago. Why are you asking?"

Mycroft's glare was concerned and sad. The doctor started to sweat nervously and to be a little scared.

"Well... cigarettes were his alternative to..." he inhaled deeply before continuing "drugs".

John's jaw almost hit the floor when he heard that. 'Sherlock? A junkie? No way' he thought to himself. Mycroft kept on talking

"He has been clean for a year now, but I am afraid that, after what you told me, he might go back to his old habits".

The doctor still couldn't believe what he was hearing, he was speechless. He kept on looking to Mycroft, who certainly was worried about his little brother. The man continued talking

"John, this may be a danger night."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"No, but then I never am." He said sadly. John had never seen Mycroft so concerned and sad... He had had to deal with Sherlock's addiction many times in the past.

John opened his mouth to say something but before he could talk, Mycroft said

"You have to stay with him, John"

The doctor nodded and not much after he was on his way home. He couldn't stop thinking about what Mycroft just told him. Sherlock had a drug addiction... He decided that when he got home he would register every corner of the flat to find anything and throw it away.

Mycroft closed the door before sitting down again. He felt sorry for John; he knew he was in love with Sherlock by the way his eyes sparkled a little when he was talking about the detective. Mycroft got it then, John loved Sherlock and it was killing him to see him in such state of misery.

John arrived at Baker Street and, to his surprise, when he went into the apartment, he found Sherlock asleep on the couch. He stared at him, smiled sadly and covered him with a blanket so he wouldn't get cold.

After that, the doctor started looking everywhere, trying to find any stash that Sherlock could be hiding. He started there, in the living room; he had to be very quiet and cautious in order not to wake Sherlock up. John spent two hours looking in every corner and he found nothing there. He proceeded to look in the kitchen, even in the bathroom, but still he found nothing. Then there was only one place left to look: Sherlock's room. John felt very guilty; going into his flat mate's room... It was invading his privacy, but after all, he was doing it for Sherlock's sake.

The doctor took a deep breath and opened the door. He looked at his surroundings. The detective's room wasn't as John expected it to be at all; it was very tidy and it didn't have any decoration, just a small night table. John sighed and started looking under the bed, the closet, the night table's drawers... Nothing. But then he looked under Sherlock's pillow and he found a little box. John's eyes widened and his knees were weakening. He took a deep breath, opened the box and there it was... a needle with some morphine and next to it, a little tube with a bag that contained cocaine. John couldn't believe his eyes.

He went back to the living room with the stash on his hands. Sherlock was now awake and when he saw his best friend he opened wildly his eyes. No. He couldn't have found it. Sherlock felt sick. He had been clean for a whole year now, but he still kept the stash, just in case. Those days he had felt the need of doing drugs again to escape from all those sentiments he had been having, but then he thought about John and how going back into his old habits would let him down, and he didn't touch them. But now, his best friend had found them and he could see all the concern, anger and disappointment in his eyes. Sherlock didn't say anything, he just sat there in silence looking at John who went to the kitchen, broke the needle and the tube with his bare hands and proceeded to flush the stash in the toilet. He then walked in the living room again and yelled

"This could kill you Sherlock!". Then, he trotted up the stairs and slammed shut the door of his room upstairs.

Sherlock sighed heavily. Now John would never want to talk to him again and he may even find a new flat mate... No. He couldn't start spiraling like that.

He stood up, picked his violin, went to the window, and started playing a sad lament.

John laid down on his bed, hands covering his face. He couldn't believe it... Mycroft said that he had been clean for a year, but what if he went back? John was not mad at Sherlock... He was concerned; he didn't want anything bad to happen to him...

The doctor tried to fight back his tears, but he failed and they started rolling down his cheeks.

Slightly afterwards, he could hear Sherlock playing his violin downstairs. That piece was even more sad than the ones he had been playing until that moment and it did nothing but intensify John's crying. Again, he cried his heart out until he fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

That night John was awakened by screams coming from downstairs. It was Sherlock who was screaming. John, scared that something might have happened, trotted off downstairs as fast as he could, but Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. John went into Sherlock's room and he saw him covered in cold sweat, moving furiously on his bed and muttering something that John was not able to understand.

The doctor softly placed his hands on the detective's face and said

"Shh shh... Sherlock, I'm here. It's just a nightmare, you are alright, you are alright"

The consulting detective opened his eyes wildly and started scanning the room. Neither of them realized how tense Sherlock was until he relaxed his muscles. John just stared at him with a mixture of sadness and concern in his eyes. A little smile appeared on the detective's face; his flat mate was not mad at him because of the drugs, he still cared about him. They stayed in that position for a while; John's hands cupping the detective's face and both looking deep in each other's eyes.

After a while John cleared his throat nervously and asked

"You want to talk about it?", referring to the nightmare the detective just had

Sherlock's cheeks turned slightly red and he replied

"No."

"Okay then" said John turning around to leave the room and go back to sleep.

"John" said Sherlock

"Hm?" said the doctor, now facing the detective.

"Could you stay for a while?" asked Sherlock in a barely audible voice. John smiled warmly and sat down on the detective's bed until he fell asleep.

Next morning, Sherlock woke up and smiled a little bit when he remembered that john had stayed with him until he fell asleep. He felt slightly happier that day but there was still that hollow inside him.

He went to the living room where Mrs. Hudson was preparing some coffee and scrambled eggs.

"No cases for today either?", she asked a bit worried for his sake, but Sherlock didn't reply; he just sighed and plopped dramatically on the sofa.

Not much after, John came downstairs and sighed sadly at the sight of his flat mate; he couldn't stand seeing him moping around and in such a miserable state...

John sat down to eat the breakfast. Sherlock looked over his shoulder for a while and saw that Mrs. Hudson and the doctor were talking but he couldn't get what they were saying, so he went back to his initial position.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, their land lady looked at John pointedly to make him realize that Sherlock didn't even touch his breakfast. John hummed resignedly and asked the woman, in a low voice so that Sherlock wouldn't be able to hear them

"Listen, er, has he ever had any kind of" he paused and frowned a little "boyfriend, girlfriend... a relationship? Ever?"

Mrs. Hudson looked at him with a strange look on her face, smirking a little, as if she was insinuating something.

"I don't know" she simply replied. John sighed in frustration.

"How can we not know?!" he said raising his voice this time.

"It's Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that head?" the woman replied with a little smile on her face. John smiled back, and finished his breakfast quietly.

After several hours, the detective stood up, went to the window and started playing on his violin. Not much after, his phone received a notification. It was Lestrade, again, asking him help with another case. Sherlock stared at the message for a short while, but he decided not to reply. He put his phone in his pocket, lifted the violin and began to play the same tune again.

Recently, he had lost interest and enthusiasm towards the activities he used to enjoy the most: solving crimes, doing experiments...

John couldn't be around Sherlock without feeling a lump on his throat; all those feelings he had towards the detective were doing nothing but become stronger, and trying to repress them was not helpful at all...

After a while of listening to Sherlock's violin, John decided to go for a walk.

A few weeks later...

Weeks passed and the situation didn't improve; Sherlock still looked restless and dejected... He was still having nightmares every night, he didn't go out, he barely ate or spoke...

This situation went on for several days until John decided that he had had enough. He couldn't see Sherlock like that anymore, it was like he didn't even care anymore if he was pushing away the only few people that truly cared about him. This way, John decided that he had to talk to him; he went to the living room, where de detective was laying on the sofa, probably in his mind palace.

The doctor sat on his armchair thinking about what he was going to tell Sherlock. A few minutes later, the detective opened his eyes and John said

"Sherlock, we need to talk.

"About what", responded the detective, who was now sitting on his armchair looking directly at the doctor's eyes.

"About your nightmares and the way you've been behaving these few weeks."

The detective rolled his eyes and sighed. He hated this kind of talk, he didn't like talking about his feelings

"There's nothing to talk about. I am totally fine"

"Fine?! How can you say that you are fine when you have been moping around for weeks?!" said the doctor raising his voice in anger "I know you, and I know that you are not fine! So why don't you tell me what the hell is going on?!"

Sherlock stared at John for a while. He had never seen him so angry before. The detective still couldn't understand why did his flat mate care so much, no one ever did, so why now?

"Why do you care so much anyway?!" asked the slender man raising his voice too and trying to fight back his tears.

John just looked deeply into the detective's eyes. He was having trouble to breath, he couldn't think properly and swallowed whole by so many emotions John yelled

"For god's sake Sherlock! Because I love you!"

Sherlock's eyes opened wildly. Did he hear that right? Did John Watson just admit that he was in love with him? His cheeks were now burning red and he felt the butterflies in his stomach wanting to get out of their cage.

The doctor couldn't believe what he had just said; he had just confessed his feeling to Sherlock. Hi could feel his heart expanding in his chest as it heated faster than ever. 

Both men remained silent looking into each others' eyes, not knowing what to say. Not much after the detective said in a barely audible voice

"You... what?" finally asked the detective trying to break the silence between them.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Both men stood silent, again, looking at each other.

"You've already heard me, Sherlock", replied John looking down at his feet with flushing red cheeks. The detective, though, didn't respond to that. He just stood there looking at John, with a frown, clearly confused. How could someone as great as John love him? How was he supposed to react? He couldn't think clearly; he was, somehow, paralyzed and as much as he wanted to, he found that he was not able to express how he was feeling; he was too shocked to even speak. So he just stood there, in front of John, whose face saddened when Sherlock didn't say anything.

Trying to hold back his tears, and chuckling sadly said

"You know what... Just... forget it, okay?"

'Couldn't I just stay quiet?' thought the doctor to himself while grabbing his jacket to go out for a walk. Sherlock wanted to move, to talk, to tell John that he loved him too, but it seemed that his body and his mind were not willing to coordinate. It wasn't until John was about to leave that the consulting detective managed to finally say

"John"

The doctor was now staring at Sherlock again. Not staring, observing... He could see that the light hit the detective's face just on the right angle to make him look more relaxed than a few minutes ago. John's eyes moved to Sherlock's lips. The corners were usually straight or turned slightly down, but at that moment, they were a little turned up. His eyes glittered with so many emotions, yet he was so still, distant, as if he couldn't react to what had happened.

Sherlock, too, stared at the doctor for a long time; he enjoyed observing John's face, he wanted to memorize every single detail of it. Sherlock approached John, whose face cheeks were growing redder by the second. The detective felt his heart racing in his chest and felt how the butterflies in his stomach wanted to be let out of their cage.

"Yes, Sherlock?"

Both men continued to stare at each other for a long time. Sherlock moved a little closer to John and bent down a little. Their noses were practically touching. They stayed like that for several minutes until the detective took a deep breath and staring into the doctor's eyes said in a barely audible voice

"I love you too, John"

Then, the taller man put his hand, softly, under John's chin and closed the gap between their mouths.

John couldn't believe that he was kissing Sherlock Holmes, world's only consulting detective, his flat mate, his best friend... He could feel the butterflies take flight and start to flutter in his stomach. He was happy. It was a gentle kiss, but it lasted.

After a while, Sherlock pulled away and looked at the doctor, who started to laugh, not mockingly but with pleasure. He felt relieved now that they both had confessed their feelings. The detective was smiling as well. He had such a genuine smile plastered on his face; he never thought that he'd be loved.

When John started laughing, he looked straight into the taller man's gorgeous eyes and leaned on to kiss him again. The kiss started softly, but it deepened. Sherlock ran his hand through John's sandy hair; the doctor tangled his fingers in the detective's dark soft curls, provoking a small noise to escape from Sherlock's throat. It drove John mad; he tried to bring the detective close as close as humanly possible.

Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's neck, pulling him even closer. The doctor still couldn't believe that Sherlock and him were kissing. He felt fireworks inside him. Unfortunately, they both were human so they had to break the kiss to breathe.

Both, detective and doctor, looked into each other's eyes, feeling as happy as ever. Then, after a while of staring at each other and gasping for air, they sat on the couch.

John looked at Sherlock again and he noticed that he looked very relaxed; he looked very soft and warm. The doctor tried to stop himself but he couldn't. His fingers found their way to the detective's cheekbones, god, those cheekbones. Sherlock didn't seem bothered by Jon's touch, so the doctor continued exploring his face.

He scooted a little closer and allowed his mouth to take the place of his hand. He didn't kiss him, he just stared at him; he was breathtakingly beautiful. John ran his hand through the detective's curls, and when their eyes met, he could see the hunger and desire in the taller man's eyes. The doctor knew that Sherlock was not going to stop him, he even looked kind of desperate, as if he was begging for John to keep touching him.

John pulled himself into the detective's lap and started kissing his face, softly; he planted a kiss on his forehead, on his cheekbones, his nose, and so on. His breathing became raggedy and one of his hands moved on to John's hip.

The army doctor pecked around the space between Sherlock's nose and lips, making him smile a little. When he did so, John kissed the corner of his lips and then moved on to his jaw, his neck... He started to lose it and moving his hands to the slender man's neck, he kissed his lips. He felt so good, so right. The detective moved his hands to the doctor's back, pulling him closer until the only thing between them were their clothes.

John separated and went to Sherlock's neck, cautiously in order not to leave any marks on his pale soft skin. Before the doctor could go back to his mouth, the detective's lips were on his neck.

Their lips found each other again and both men thought about how much they wanted that, how long they had waited and how much they had suffered to finally get there. They were living that moment to its full potential.

The two men thought that the kiss would become more gentle and soft eventually, but it was the total opposite; they both felt every time more restless and aroused.

They managed somehow to stand up, without breaking their kiss, and walk into Sherlock's room, where the taller man took John's jumper and t-shirt off. The detective saw the scar on his best friend shoulder and kissed it, gently.

Not much after, John started to unbutton Sherlock's shirt and when he was about to take it off, the detective pulled back a little bit, as if he felt embarrassed to show his body. John's eyes looked a bit sad now. For what horrible things might he have had to go through to feel so embarrassed of himself? John felt really sorry for Sherlock and gave him a warm smile and kissed him very softly on the lips and that was enough for the detective to know that for John he was perfect. This way, he slowly took his shirt off, timidly, looking at the doctor while he did so.

Once he took it off, the doctor smiled at the sight of the detective; he really was handsome. Their lips found each other again and, not much after, both men were on the bed, kissing passionately and exploring each other's bodies, trying to memorize every single detail of what had happened during the last few hours.

They parted their lips, gasping for air. John kissed the detective's neck again; he loved his scent, he smelled like rain and tea, such a basic scent yet so unique; he loved the touch of his pale and amazingly smooth skin. He never wanted to forget a single detail of what had happened that day.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Next morning Sherlock woke up tangled in John's arms and he smiled. Usually he would have been bothered by so much physical contact, but when it came to John, he had the need to be as close as humanly possible to the army doctor.

'Oh John, what have you done to me?' Thought to himself the detective with a big smile plastered on his face. He closed his eyes again, enjoying that moment.

Not much after, the doctor woke up, also smiling while remembering the events of the previous night.

"Good morning" he whispered into the detective's ear.

"mmmh. Good morning" he said, with a hoarse voice, still a little bit sleepy even though he had woken up earlier.

The two men stayed like that, tangled in each other's arms, for a long while until John started to roll out of bed in order to go and prepare some breakfast. That, though, was interrupted by Sherlock tightening his arms around the doctor's torso

"Stay a little longer, please" said the detective, almost whispering. John finally gave up and they both stayed in bed cuddling for a little longer, listening to their heart beats; he tightened his grip around Sherlock's waist.

The doctor started to get a little bit nervous when he started thinking again about what had happened the night before; did it mean that they were now dating? After a while of thinking about it he asked

"Sherlock, erm..." he paused briefly, trying to find the right words. The detective was now looking at him, with confusion in his eyes "Well, eh, after what happened between us last night, erm..." he paused again, took a deep breath and said "Does it mean that we are dating now?"

The doctor tried to avoid eye contact, since he felt a little embarrassed by asking that and also, because he was afraid of Sherlock rejecting him. However, the detective, with a little smile on his face, said

"I suppose that we are now in a romantic entanglement, yes"

John gave Sherlock a warm smile and he swore that he saw the detective blush

"Oh my god, Sherlock, are you blushing?!", he said laughing, causing the detective's cheeks to go even redder

"N-No, I am certainly not", replied Sherlock standing up and turning his back on John so he couldn't see his face.

"Did I just make the stoic, supposed to be an emotionless machine, world's only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes, blush?" said the doctor now hugging the taller man from behind

"Oh shut up, John" he said leaving the room dramatically. 'He is such a drama queen' thought to himself the army doctor.

Both men headed then to the kitchen to have some breakfast. John prepared some eggs and toast while Sherlock was struggling with the coffee machine.

The doctor looked at his now boyfriend and tried his best not to laugh; he was so smart yet there were many simple things that he did not know. Finally, after a while of laughing at Sherlock, John took pity on him after his fifth threat of throwing the bloody machine out the window

"Sherlock, here" said the doctor chuckling a little while helping the detective through the simple technological process. Sherlock could be such a child sometimes.

When the food was ready, they sat and ate in silence; not an uncomfortable silence, though. Once they finished, John washed the dishes and Sherlock sat on the couch, where minutes after the doctor would sit as well.

They cuddled for a little while, and when John looked up at Sherlock, the taller man couldn't resist it but kissing his boyfriend. His lips were so warm and soft, the detective loved the touch of them on his own lips and skin... But their kiss was interrupted by Lestrade storming into the room screaming

"Sherlock! You have been disappeared for weeks! What on Earth has gotten into you?! You could at least reply to my messages!" and just when he finished his sentence he saw the two men sitting on the couch holding hands, smiled like a proud dad and said, lowering his voice this time

"Well, it was about bloody time you two got together!" and just when he stopped talking, Mrs. Hudson was also in the room

"I'm sorry I didn't stop him, Sherlock! He said it was important!" and when she looked at the two men, that still were with their fingers tangled said

"Oh... Sorry to interrupt you boys! I'll give you some privacy", she said smiling and leaving the room.

Both, Sherlock and John were still frozen, without knowing quite well what to say, so the detective simply asked

"Did you come here to ask me help with a case or did you just come to spy on me, Gavin?"

"It's Greg! And no, I did not come to spy on you. I came because I need you to help me with a case" replied the Detective Inspector, clearly pissed at the fact that Sherlock still didn't know what was his name.

"Okay. Tell me where the crime scene is and we'll be there in a few minutes" said the detective, whose eyes glittered with passion and excitement.

Greg gave them the directions and left the flat. Sherlock was really happy to be able to work on cases again and John loved to see how excited the detective was.

The two men got dressed and, holding hands, they got out to the street to hail a cab. However, once they were outside, the doctor let go of Sherlock's hand.

John swore that he could see sadness in the detective's eyes but he wasn't sure so he let it go. But Sherlock was hurt. Even if he said he didn't, he did have feelings and now those were hurt. With all the courage he could get, he said

"John"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Are you... embarrassed of me?" he asked, almost whispering and looking at his feet, because he felt very vulnerable and he didn't want his boyfriend to notice it

"What? No! Of course not" replied John looking tenderly at the detective, not quite understanding what was he talking about. However, the detective frowned and fighting back his tears he said a little louder that he intended to

"Then why did you let go off my hand once we were visible to people, John?!"

Sherlock started to walk away mad and embarrassed, leaving the doctor behind realizing how he just hurt Sherlock. He was not embarrassed of him but all that was new for him. Still, that was not an excuse and he had upset his boyfriend for no reason at all 'what the fuck is wrong with me?!' he thought to himself. He then walked as fast as he could to Sherlock, turned him around, grabbed him by his jacket and pressed his lips against his.

When they broke the kiss to breathe, the detective had a confused look on his face

"Sherlock, I love you and I am not embarrassed or ashamed of you okay? I was stupid and I am sorry" said the doctor with a little smile on his face, not looking at the consulting detective because he was afraid that he would be mad. The taller man though, was now smiling too and he hugged John.

After a short while, they remembered that they had to go and meet Lestrade at the crime scene, so they hailed a cab and headed there.

During the journey, the detective was concerned; were they going to tell people that they were dating? He was afraid that besides being stupid, Sally Donovan could be a homophobe as well...

"What's wrong Sherlock?" asked the doctor, seeing the concerned look on his boyfriend's face.

"Nothing it's just that I think that at the crime scene we have to act professionally..."

"You don't want Donovan to insult you, eh?" said the doctor. The woman was always saying such horrible things about Sherlock and, John knew that even if the detective did not show it, those things affected him.

The taller man didn't reply, he just nodded slightly.

"Don't worry, then. Plus, why would we tell her about us anyway?" said John laughing a little in order to downplay a little bit the issue.

Sherlock smiled a little at John and gave him a quick peck on the lips, just before arriving to the crime scene.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

The two men arrived at a quite big house and they found Lestrade waiting for them at the door.

"What took you guys so long?" said the detective inspector a little bit pissed because of the fact that he had had to wait for so long. Then he shook his head and continued talking, now telling them facts about the victim

"Anyway, the victim is Charlie Anderson, 22 years old. He was in the Alps and last week it was his father's birthday, so he decided to call and wish him a happy birthday. Then, he asked David –his father- if he could take a picture of the Power Ranger stuck to the bonnet of his car, according to Charlie, to settle a bet with some guys. At that moment, the victim appears to be feeling a bit weird but claimes that it is because of the altitude of the mountain. David sent the picture but he got no response of his son. Assuming that it is because of the bad connection he hangs up.."

Lestrade's explanation was interrupted by Sherlock rolling his eyes and saying

"Boring!"

"Let me get to the interesting part!" said Lestrade, clearly lacking of patience

"So, as I was saying, a week after that, something really weird happens; drunk driver, totally smashed, the cops are chasing him and he turns into the drive of the Anderson's house to try and get away, but he crashes with a car, causing a huge explosion.

Unfortunately, the drunk guy survived, they managed to pull him out, but when they put the fire out and examined the parked car, whose body do they find? Charlie Anderson's, the son, who had been dead there for a whole week before the crash!"

The detective's face changed completely, he was now intrigued and asked

"What?"

"Yea, the son who was in the Alps. DNA tests match perfectly" he paused briefly and sad again "Night of the party, the car is empty and a week later they find the boy dead at the wheel!"

Sherlock frowned and while walking into the Anderson's house. The family welcomed them into their house, which was really big but cozy and decorated with a lot of taste. The family took Sherlock, John and Lestrade to the living room, where they offered them a cup of tea.

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, we are most terribly sorry for your son's loss" said Greg once they were sitting on the sofa. After a brief pause, the Detective inspector continued

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, these are Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Mr. john Watson"

"Yes, we have heard a lot from you. Thank you very much for coming" said the woman on the edge of tears. Her husband, David, put his arm around her in order to comfort her, and said

"If anyone can throw any light into all this darkness, surely it will be you" David was now smiling sadly. Sherlock smiled back, stood up and started pacing around the room until he stopped in front of a little table placed next to a bug window.

"Seriously? Sherlock with an intuition?" said John chuckling. The detective turned around and said to his now boyfriend in a flirty tone

"Intuitions are not to be ignored, Doctor. They represent data processed too fast for the conscious mind to comprehend."

John's cheeks reddened when he heard Sherlock's flirty voice and he coughed a little bit, clearly nervous. Lestrade just looked at the two men with a smirk on his face. The detective kept on looking at the little table for any clues.

"The gap. Look at the gap" he said as if everyone knew what he was talking about. Before anyone was able to say something, he proceeded

"It's wrong" he paused briefly "Everything else is perfectly ordered, managed. Almost verging on OCD"

Greg and John's eyes opened wildly at the lack of respect from Sherlock

"Our respects" said the doctor a bit uncomfortable, but that didn't stop the detective from keep on talking

"The figurine is routinely repositioned after the cleaner has been here, the picture is straightened every day, yet this ugly gap remains." The detective paused shortly and kept on talking

"Something is missing from here, but only recently"

David and his wife Amanda were starting to get a little angry because that had nothing to do with their son but still, Mr. Anderson said

"What is missing there is a plaster bust"

The detective remained silent, causing David to get nervous and scream

"For god's sake! It got broken! Someone broke into our house and smashed it! What the hell does that to do with our son, Mr. Holmes!"

He was furious, livid. John apologized again for Sherlock's behavior, while Lestrade just said

"It's worth letting him do this"

"I know what happened to your son" said all of the sudden the detective, making everyone's jaw to almost drop to the floor

"You do?" said Mrs. Anderson, with a little bit of hope glittering in her eyes.

"Yes. It's quite simple, superficial, to be blunt"

"Mr. Holmes, please!" said David impatient to know what happened to his son.

"It was your birthday Mr. Anderson, of course you were disappointed that Charlie, your son, couldn't make it back from his gap year." Started explaining the detective.

"After all, he was in the Alps" said Amanda, to what her husband replied

"Yes" but Sherlock interrupted them and simply said

"No, he was not". Everyone in the room looked rather confused at the detective. What could he possibly be talking about? Finally John was able to speak and plainly asked

"No?"

Sherlock shook his head, inhaled deeply, and continued talking

"The first part of your conversation" he started explaining directing now to Mr. and Mrs. Anderson "was, in fact, a pre-recorded video, easily arranged"

"But it was a Skype call, Mr. Holmes" replied David, still not understanding what Sherlock was trying to say

"Yes. The trick was meant to be a surprise"

"Obviously, Mr. Anderson. There were two types of vinyls in the burn-out remains of the car; effectively a costume."

"Are you joking?!" said David in a very loud voice, clearly nervous and angry.

"No, I'm not joking" replied Sherlock very calmly before continuing his explanation "All he wanted was for you to get close enough to the car so he could spring the surprise. But, even though I can't be certain, I think that Charlie must have suffered some sort of seizure. You said he felt unwell, right? He dies there and then."

"Oh my god" said both, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, crying desperately.

After a few more hours Lestrade, John and Sherlock left home. The Detective Inspector, said goodbye to the two men and went to Scotland Yard, while the consulting detective and the doctor hailed a cab and went back to 221B.

When they arrived, Sherlock started to play violin and John watched him. He loved it when the detective played violin, he looked more relaxed, more... human. It was majestic.

Mot much after Sherlock put his violin down and turned the TV on. For his surprise, there was a classical music concert playing. He smiled, turned to John, who was sitting on his armchair and asked in a barely audible voice

"Would you mind dancing with me?"

The doctor smiled and blushed

"Erm, I have no idea of how to dance..." But the detective didn't seem to care about tha fact that John didn't know how to dance, he simply said

"Come on, I'll lead"

That was all it took to convince his boyfriend to dance with him. He stood up and directed to where Sherlock was standing, and just like that, they danced in each other's arms several hours, feeling as happy as ever and thinking how lucky they were for having found each other.


	15. Chapter 15

EPILOGUE 

After a few months, both men were still together, as happy as ever.

The two men woke up tangled in each other's arms and decided that, since there were no interesting cases to solve, they would spend the day at the flat.

That day, John noticed that Sherlock was acting a little bit weird, more than usual. He acted as if he was nervous, but what on Earth could he be so nervous about?

The doctor decided to let it go and enjoy the book he was reading while Sherlock was doing an experiment in the kitchen. He looked at the detective, without him noticing, and smiled at the sight of the man he was wearing those security glasses and his brown dressing gown and he was experimenting with some eyes. Strangely, or not, John found it adorable when his boyfriend was experimenting, even if it was with human body parts.

The doctor stood up, went to the kitchen and hugged Sherlock from behind. The detective almost dropped his experiment when he felt the sudden hug from John; he was so concentrated that he hadn't noticed that his boyfriend entered to the kitchen.

Both men stayed like that for a while, until the doctor let go, planting a kiss on the detective's cheek and whispering

"I love you"

Sherlock's cheeks turned slightly red and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly before he replied

"I love you too, John"

The smiled briefly and started to prepare some tea.

"D'you want some tea?" asked the doctor

"Yes. Tea would be nice"

That same afternoon, the two men were sitting on their respective armchairs. Sherlock still looked as if there was something in his mind that made him nervous, but John couldn't tell what.

The couple started talking about how they got to where they were, and they started remembering memories, the pain they had to go through before confessing their feelings to each other, Sherlock's past drug addiction... They talked about everything until John said

"Well, none of that matters anymore. All it matters is right here, right now".

There was a short silence that made it easier for the two men to notice that it was raining outside. The silence, though, was broken by the detective replying to John's comment

"I beg to differ with you there, Doctor"

"What? Why?" asked John chuckling. But Sherlock didn't reply, he just stood up and headed to their room (John had moved into the detective's room a couple of months ago), leaving a very confused Watson in the living room. 'What the hell has gotten into him?' started thinking the doctor to himself. At that exact moment Sherlock came back, but he didn't sit on his armchair, he just stood in fron of his boyfriend and said

"I differ with you because, even if right here and right now obviously matter, the past is very important..." he paused for a while. John looked very confused. What was he talking about? The detective looked quite nervous, but why? He inhaled deeply and kept on talking

"and so is the future" Sherlock got a little closer to John, who stil was not understanding what was going on

"What are you talking about, Sherlock?" asked the doctor nervously and laughing a little. Sherlock, simply said

"Shut up, John, don't interrupt me"

"Sorry" said the doctor a bit embarrassed. The detective started talking again

"As I was saying, future is as important as the present... and... well, Iam not the emotional kind but, I don't see mine without you, John."

He paused briefly, looking all the time straight into John's eyes, that now were starting to get full of tears. Sherlock continued his little speech

"So, I guess that what I am trying to say is..." the detective said pulling out a little ring box from his dress gown and kneeling in front of his boyfriend

"John Hamish Watson... will you do me the great honor of becoming my husband?" asked Sherlock with a huge smile plastered on his gorgeous face and his eyes glittering with love, something that rarely happened.

John, astonished and shocked, not being able to talk because of all the emotion and excitement, nodded his head energically while smiling wildly, until he was finally able to say

"Yes. God, yes!"

Sherlock breathed relieved and hugged John. After a while, he puts the ring on the doctor's finger, and both men hugged again for a longer time now. Still in each other's arms, they started to slow-dance listening to the sound of the rain outside.

"You know that there's no music, right?" asked John laughing

"Who cares" said softly the detective.

They remained like that for several minutes until Mrs. Hudson came in with a tray full of cookies, but just as she entered the room and saw the empty ring box on one of the armchairs, she left the tray aside and headed to where the two men were standing

"I am so happy for you two!" she said while giving them both a tight hug.

After a few minutes, she left the apartment to "give the boys some privacy".

Once Mrs. Hudson had left, Sherlock and John stared at each other for a long time realizing how lucky they were to have each other.

\----

THE END.


End file.
